


Drabbles of Aromantic Awareness

by Odderancy (dreamcatchers_and_chocolate)



Series: Undertale One-Shot Collections [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Aromantic, Aromantic Awareness Week, Gen, Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-30 23:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17838005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcatchers_and_chocolate/pseuds/Odderancy
Summary: Happy Aromantic Awareness Week!Undertale drabbles about aromanticism from a greyromantic person. First up is Stretch wondering how he's going to find alackof attraction





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alicedragons said: Man... aro stuff is hard. Especially because it’s a different experience for everyone. As someone who’s still questioning, I was hoping perhaps you could write something where a character is still unsure whether or not they’re aro? (i.e. “I really like this person but I can’t tell if I’m attracted to them romantically/sexually/platonically and now I’m questioning myself”). Uh... Swap Papyrus, maybe? Only if you’re comfortable, of course! I completely understand if not. Thank you! ^_^

_How would it be to date Edge?_ Stretch wondered as he watched his counterpart deal out the cards in the game of poker he was playing with Razz. It was a good while since he had learnt _not_ to play poker with a Fellmonster. Every single one cheated. So much. It was part of the game for them. Never again, that was for sure. He curled up on the couch, leaning his arms and head on the backrest, tilting his head.

They’d kiss, he imagined. Go on dates – dinners, maybe the movies. Cuddle up on the couch. Edge was an attractive monster, there was no arguing that. And none of those ideas were unappealing.

Only, they were so _familiar_. He had thought the exact same thoughts about Muffet before he realized he wasn’t into women, though the thought of kissing her never seemed like it’d be nice. He’d thought them about Slim, and Dogamy back before he married Dogaressa, and even Grillby, who he didn’t particularly like. Mostly tolerated, since he was a good friend of Blue’s. Hell, he’d wondered the same about people he’d known for a couple hours and found agreeable enough. Was he just a huge romantic?

But as familiar as the thoughts were, he had never… well, never _desired_ it. Oh, he wanted it well enough, just for the principle: all those things about romance sounded so nice. Being someone’s favourite person, knowing they’d always be there, making it official with a wedding. Who didn’t want to throw a huge party like a wedding anyway? But there had never been _someone_ he wanted it with. He just. Wanted it.

His gaze wandered over to the other skeleton. Razz’s poker face was immaculate as he placed his bet. The purple of his magic was bright in the dim room, and also he was a handsome monster, just different enough from Blue for Stretch to being able to regard him as attractive. On the surface, Razz was a terrifying monster, even more than Edge. Because where Edge was, when it came down to it, someone who would always choose mercy over violence, Razz wasn’t. Razz cared about a chosen few and everyone else was little but pawns or threats to him.

Nonetheless, Stretch had seen his softer side. He shifted, pulling the fleece blanket over his shoulders. He’d seen Razz patch up his Chara while they were screaming in pain, gently reproaching them for doing something dangerous. Seen him cuddled up in the couch with his brother, fast asleep, content and safe.

The idea of being the one to bring out that softness… yeah, he liked that. But as pleasing as the thought was, he didn’t feel anything _more_. Once when he was a teenager watching his classmates date and hearing them babble on about love, he’d asked his older brother what it felt like to be in love. _Terrifying_ , Blue had answered him back then, _but in a good way. You can’t stop thinking about them. Your stomach tickles at the mere thought of them. You’re almost euphoric_.

That sounded nice, Stretch admitted. The idea of romantic love sounded nice, and sometimes it made him sad that he’d never experienced it – or maybe he had, and he just hadn’t noticed? There were certainly people he loved to spend time with and missed as soon as they disappeared. Blue had always been so exuberant; maybe his way of feeling love was as well.

He just. Didn’t know. Because how were you supposed to know if there was an _absence_ of something you didn’t know _what_ it was? Red had let him know about the word _aromantic_. And maybe, that was what it was. But how was he supposed to _know_ , when what he was looking for was a _lack_ of something? He’d realized he was gay because he felt attraction to men, he wanted intimacy with men. That had been much easier than to recognize if he _didn’t_ feel something, especially something as abstract as romantic love.

It had been easier for Red, because Red just. Didn’t give a damn about anything romance. As he said, “I don’t feel it and I don’t want it. That mushy shit ain’t fer me.”

But Stretch _wanted_ that ‘mushy shit’. Even if he _was_ aromantic, he still wanted to be someone’s favourite person, he still wanted someone – or someones – to spend his life with. It didn’t have to be romantic, he’d come to realize the past few weeks, ever since Red gave him that word, but it was… difficult, to imagine it as anything else when he had never seen anyone do something like that without romance being involved. He threw a reproachful look on the television.

It was supposed to be an adventure movie, all about ancient temples and escaping the evil grave robbers. Yet here the main characters _fucking_ were, kissing in a goddamn _life or death-situation_. It wasn’t strange that these reflections had just spiralled out of nowhere: they’d known each other for like a week and were already ready to die for each other. In what reality did that happen?

Sighing, Stretch sank back into the couch, playing with the cigarette package in his pocket. Maybe it did happen. What the hell did he know? Absolutely nothing.

Stars, why was this so _confusing?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't new, but I thought it belonged here
> 
> With UF Sans

When his brother, sixteen at the time, had asked, “Sans, aren’t you going to take home a partner someday?” Sans hadn’t known how the fuck to react.

He stared up at his brother – and wasn’t it annoying as fuck that Papyrus had grown taller than him? – before sinking into one of the luxurious, black armchairs of their private parlour. The parlour was small, meant for family rather than their father’s important guests, with dark purple wallpaper and family photos on the walls. Papyrus had followed suit, although he sat down on the armrest of Sans’ chair rather than taking his own, the little weirdo. Teenagers, right? Never mind that Sans too was a teen for another six months.

“Not gonna happen, bud,” he simply said, shrugging. The thought of pursuing romance had just never occurred to him, and he didn’t see why he would. It wasn’t that he _disliked_ the idea of it: he just couldn’t see himself falling in love, ever. As Papyrus narrowed his eyes, confusion visible, he suddenly felt the urge to grab one of his cigarettes. But their father would kill him if he smoked inside, so that was a no-no. He really didn’t want to have to clean the lab again. Sans shivered at the thought. Meeting his little brother’s gaze, he leaned back in the chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Yer fairy tale romance – or any kind o’ romance – ain’t fer me. I just can’t see it.”

“But-” Papyrus began, his face scrunching up. Fiddling with his scarf, as he always did when he was confused, he studied Sans. “Isn’t that what a happy ending is? Finding a partner you can trust to guard your back and who loves you?”

Sans barked out a laugh, staring up at him in disbelief. “A happy ending? What have you been reading, Pap?” A blush rose on Papyrus’ cheeks and he averted his eyes, crossing his arms and pouting. Shaking his head in amusement, Sans patted his brother’s knee. “Nah. Can’t see th’ appeal. Perhaps you like the idea, but it’s just not fer me, yanno?”

After a few moments, where Papyrus stared at the wall in consideration, he nodded. “Well, alright then, asshole.” He was obviously still confused, but patted Sans’ head, grinning sharply. “You’re fucking weird but that’s nothing new, _little_ brother. I mean, _look_ at how you talk. Like a goddamn gutter rat.”

Sans chuckled, even as he scowled at the nickname. “That’s me. Th’ weirdo o’ the family. Ya love me.”

“I do, for some fucking reason.”

* * *

 

 _Aromantic_. Red hummed as he continued to stare at the word on his computer screen. The sun shone in through the window, making the screen dark and difficult to see, but the word seemed to shine. Suddenly he didn’t remember why he’d gone on the internet to begin with, too focused on the word and definition he’d just read. _Aromantic_. He said it, tasting the word. Yeah, that seemed right. Not that he’d ever really felt that he needed to put a word on what he was feeling – or rather, not feeling – but it still felt kind of… nice. He nodded to himself, a smile spreading over his face. Nice. To know it wasn’t just him, it was a _thing_.

He grabbed the black hole-puncher on his desk – this was his _working_ desk, so it had all that fancy office shit like hole-punchers and paperclips on it – and threw it at the door as hard as he could. A bang rang through the room as it hit.

“What the _fuck_ , Red,” Edge swore downstairs, and soon Red heard his brother’s footsteps in the tiny staircase. It was only five steps, their home on the Surface was slightly smaller than any of their homes Underground: their house in Snowdin, and _certainly_ the Gaster Manor in New Home. The door screeched as his brother jerked it open, glaring at him.

“Hey, asshole,” Red said, grinning widely. “I’m aromantic.”

Edge blinked, his face scrunching up in confusion. “You’re what, dickhead?”

“Ohhh, _dickhead_.” Red slapped a hand over his chest, sliding off his comfortable office chair. He saw Edge roll his eyes, but he was smiling. “I’m so wounded.” Heaving himself up on his elbows, he jerked his head toward his computer, and his brother stepped up to it. “ _Aromanticism is the lack of romantic attraction_ ,” he quoted, his grin growing wider as he teleported himself to his feet again. The air cracked from the shortcut. “That’s me.”

After quickly scrolling through the page, Edge nodded. He flicked Red’s skull as he sat down in _Red’s_ chair, crossing his legs. Red glared at him but couldn’t stop grinning. “Indeed,” his brother agreed, his smile turning somewhat softer. “It sounds like you.”

“Guess I’m not weird after all then.” For a moment, Edge’s expression turned worried, as though he actually was concerned Red had been feeling left out, before his eyes widened. There it was, he remembered.

Suddenly, Edge seized his wrist, and he yelped as Edge pulled him down until he was sitting on the armrest. The metal and plastic dug into his pelvis. His brother grinned, lifting a hand to tug at the collar around Red’s neck. “Oh no, you’re still a fucking weirdo, brother. Just not in _that_ aspect.”

Red glared at him. “Fuck you, it’s called having _style_.”

“No it’s not. It’s a fucking dog collar.” But Edge’s eyes shone as he regarded Red, and neither of their grins slipped for a moment.

 _Aromantic_. He mouthed the word. Yeah, he quite liked that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's some queerplatonic Blackcherry. Very short

Red had never been one for affection. It just wasn’t his thing at all. Sometimes he’d allow sitting pressed up against his brother on the couch, but that was about the only physical affection he had allowed for many years. Prostitutes not counted, because there was absolutely no affection involved in that. He stared down at the skeleton whose head was in his lap, and whose head he had his own hand gently placed on. With his years of refusing any affection, he had _no idea_ how he’d ended up in this position.

Razz opened his eyes, grinning as he saw the confusion on Red’s face. “What’s on your mind, asshole?”

Huffing, Red glared playfully at him. “Jus’ wonderin’ how the hell I let ya get anywhere close ta me.”

Lifting one of the hands that had been resting at his chest, Razz gently punched his arm. “Because I’m the only one who can stand you for any amount of time, and that’s why we’re qp partners.”

“Yeah.” Red couldn’t argue with that. He chuckled, snapping a finger against the other’s skull. “I _really_ dunno how th’ hell that happened though.”

“I do.” Razz sat up, and before Red could even react, had his arm behind his back. He grunted in pain, glaring at him, and Razz only grinned back, a hint of triumph in his eyes. “I beat the hell out of you when you showed up in Swapfell being all rude. And then Slim stopped me from killing you because he figured out you were me, and you were so _grateful_ that I was so gracious that I even nursed you back to health.”

Red growled. “Like hell I was. Asshole.”

A laugh. “No. That’s you.” But he released Red’s arm, which he rubbed, rolling his shoulder. _Damn_ Razz was good at those locks, and at keeping you unable to fight him. It hurt like shit. Razz’s eyelights gleamed playfully as he regarded him. “Or, maybe, that’s what you _have_.”

Without thinking, Red threw a punch, but Razz easily leaned out of the way. “Aw did I offend you? Big baby.”

Unable to hide his offended amusement anymore, Red let out a gruff laugh. “I hate you.”

His smile was fond. “I hate you too, Red.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another oldie with Red (also Spicyhoney), which also belongs in this collection.  
> I've come to realize Red is my favourite character to headcanon as aro

Leaning back in the couch, Red smutted on the bottle of mustard in his hand. He grinned as it burned in his throat – much to his brother’s horror, he’d mixed it with bourbon. His body buzzed pleasantly. And he could need it. In the armchair next to the couch, Stretch nuzzled Red’s brother’s neck before turning back to him, their hands intertwined. Rolling his eyes, Red threw his head back, taking another few gulps of his drink.

“C’mon, you two,” he drawled, scowling as the bottle coughed, proving he’d drunk it all. “Give a guy some peace from your PDA.”

Snorting, Edge raised an eyebrow. “Like how you respected my wishes not to see you bareboned when I had to come drag your half-unconscious ass home after you’d slept with  _prostitutes_ , you mean?”

“Yeah!” He blinked. “Wait. No. It’s cheating to play mind games when ‘m drinkin’, asshole.”

That had Stretch chuckling in Edge’s lap, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he grabbed the second mustard bottle standing on the table, bouncing it in his hand. Red’s eyes followed it, and he narrowed them. “I think you’ll survive.” Stretch grinned widely. “So. You’ll wear a suit on Blue’s wedding? If I’ve got to, then so do you.”

“Yeah yeah, I will. Now gimme my mustard.” He snatched it out of the air as Stretch threw it, and immediately opened it, putting it to his mouth. The buzzing grew stronger. Edge huffed, but he didn’t actually care, Red knew that. He wasn’t going to drink himself into a stupor today. Rarely did, since they got to the Surface. The last time, it had only been because he’d somehow ended up in a drinking contest with Blue, and some-fucking-how, the  _Blueberry had won_. Hadn’t Blue been rubbing it in his face the next morning, he would’ve believed he had hallucinated the entire evening.

As much as he pretended to hate his brother and Stretch’s public shows of affection, though, when Edge pressed a gentle kiss to Stretch’s hand and Stretch beamed at him, Red had a hard time to keep himself from smiling as well. It was…  _nice_ , to see his brother this content, this  _happy_.

Stretch caught his gaze, and Red’s faint smile turned into a scowl as the other smirked. “How’s it going for you then, Red? Found anyone to romance you yet?”

A snicker. “Pretty sure my soulmate’s a bag o’ gummy worms, bud. But I appreciate yer concern,” he replied, throwing his free arm over the couch’s backrest. Romance? Nah, he didn’t give a damn. Never had. His brother may be the eternal romantic, but he personally had never seen the appeal. A bunch of good friends to drink with, and his brother. That was all he’d ever needed.

“I ate a whole bag of those this morning,” Stretch commented, shrugging. Exasperation flashed over Edge’s face, but he smiled.

Holding in a snigger, Red chucked the empty mustard bottle on him. Much to his disappointment, Edge caught it before it could hit its goal. “That was the love o’ my life, you fucking piece of shit.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's romance in this, beware.  
> Pre-relationship Mapleblossom (Wild West AU) with a greyromantic Papyrus who is reacting like I think I would upon falling in love

The sand-filled town was packed with people today. They were flooding in and out of the wooden buildings, crowding the main street. It was market-day, stands bordering every street and the town square. At the corner, Sans stood, scamming strangers, because of course he was. Papyrus smiled brightly as he watched the activity from the back of his beautiful skewbald-coloured Quarter horse. Her name was Mysterium, and he’d had her since she was a foal, struggling to live after being born too early. Both his dad and brother had been certain she would die, but here they were: she was eight years old now and one of their most perseverant horses, able to run farther distances than most of the others.

After stroking her neck, running his fingers through her black and white mane, he slid off her, leading her the short distance to the saloon. Her bridle was a hackamore, so he had no qualms about tying her up by the rains by the water trough. She snorted loudly before immediately sticking her black muzzle into the water, drinking greedily. The air was hot and dry, the desert winds ensuring they all were constantly thirsty.

He patted her neck once more before climbing the small staircase into the town’s saloon. Stepping over the floorboard that would creak if someone who didn’t know not to step on it – a stranger – came in, he made his way up to the bar. Grillby, the bartender, saw him coming and had a glass of his favourite cider ready when he reached it.

The saloon was full of activity as well: with people coming in from all over, the tables were all full and the room was loud from chatter and laughter. Papyrus grinned at the bartender as he took the glass, smutting at the cold apple cider as he swept his eyes over the room. The walls were brown, and on the wall opposite of the long bar counter, there was a stage. In the evening, Burlesque dancers would take it, providing entertainment for everyone. Well, mostly everyone. Papyrus had never been particularly fond of the dancing, it made him uncomfortable to watch people basically undress in front of an audience. Much too raunchy for his taste, that sort of thing belonged in the bedroom.

Someone who _did_ enjoy it, however, was the person he was here to meet. Sitting in the corner, close to the piano beneath the stage, sat Slim, a bottle of whisky in his hand. Papyrus’ stomach fluttered as he saw him, which made him frown at himself. He often reacted like that at seeing Slim, and he wasn’t sure why. It was a completely new sensation.

Sliding a coin over to Grillby to pay for his drink, he waved goodbye and made his way over the busy floor until he could sit down on the other chair at Slim’s table.

Slim grinned at him, raising his bottle. “Look who it is. Papyrus, in all his glory.”

He snorted. “Indeed. Just like every single day. I assume you haven’t already drunken yourself into forgetting that? It’s only noon.”

Unfortunately, Slim was basically their local town drunk. His brother was the town’s weapons dealer and he kept Slim afloat, which was lucky, or the other might’ve been dead before Papyrus ever had the pleasure to meet him. Slim shook his head. “Not quite yet,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to forget your pretty face.”

For some reason, heat flared on Papyrus’ cheeks, and he itched to reach out to touch the other. Never one to deny himself if he could, he did, putting a hand on Slim’s shoulder. A literal purr escaped Slim as he leaned into the touch, and Papyrus’ smile softened.

“I’m glad,” he said, beaming. “I do quite enjoy our lunches together.”

“As long as you’re paying, rich boy.” Slim’s tone was teasing, though. But it was fair enough: Papyrus and Sans’ father owned most of the cattle around and employed most of the town’s cowboys and cowgirls to keep an eye on them, so they were in fact quite wealthy.

Rolling his eyes, Papyrus nodded. “You know I am.”

“Great! Then I’ll take one of everything, thank you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, mirth shining in his eyes. Angel, why did his body tingle so much at the glee in Slim’s eyes? Of course he wanted to see Slim happy, he was his best friend, but this felt different. It had been going on for a couple weeks now and it was confusing him. “No you’re not. You get to chose _one_ meal.”

Pouting, Slim gave him puppy dog eyes, and for a moment, Papyrus hesitated. But then he crossed his eyes, meeting his gaze. “No.”

Slim sighed heavily, as though Papyrus has just assigned him heavy labour. “ _Fiiiiine_ ,” he whined.

“You can choose whatever you want though,” Papyrus told him, softening the ‘blow’. Even though he knew perfectly well that it wasn’t needed; Slim would take whatever he was willing to give, and nothing else. Even if he hadn’t been willing to give anything. “As always.”

“Yeah.” Slim took a swing of his whisky, grin returning. Papyrus couldn’t help but return it. “I guess that’s acceptable.”

“How gracious of you.”

Laughing out loud, Slim grabbed the hand Papyrus had on his shoulder, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss to it. Papyrus’ breath caught in his throat, his soul flipping.

“How lucky I’m a _gentleman_ then, huh?” he asked, eyes glittering.

It took a few seconds for Papyrus to get a word out. “That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told,” he managed to choke out, unsure why his soul was racing in his chest and his cheeks were so hot.

Slim only winked at him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: I don’t have specific characters in mind, but I’d love if you tackled the fear of an aro character losing their person (platonic) to a relationship. Like they are afraid that their person’s partner wouldn’t be okay with their presence or how close they were even if it was platonic Then fluff where in instead of losing a person they just get another person.

Papyrus smiled brightly at Undyne and her new girlfriend, ignoring the ache in his stomach. His best friend looked so happy with Doctor Alphys at his side, actually leaning into him in a way Papyrus had never seen anyone dare to do her. His soul pulsed with anxiety.

 _“_ Alph is my girlfriend now,” she told him, joy shining in her eyes. Doctor Alphys nodded, smiling shyly at him. Papyrus swallowed away the ill taste lingering in his mouth, fear making the air itself taste rotten. The last time a friend of his – one of his _few_ friends – had started dating, he’d basically lost them. They hadn’t had time for him anymore, too preoccupied with their new partner.

Eventually, he’d stopped calling them. It hurt too much. And he wanted to know if that was going to happen now too. If Undyne would cancel their regular cooking nights and movie marathons so she could hang out with the doctor.

“I’m so happy for you!” he said instead. And he was, he really was. He’d helped her to get this date, had encouraged her to confess her feelings. He wanted her to be happy, and he wanted Doctor Alphys to be happy. Nonetheless he could feel his fear in his _bones_.

Her grin widened and she swept out her arm, pulling him down into a headlock. “Nyeeeeeh!” he whined as she started rubbing his skull with her fist, knuckles running over the bone. “ _Undyne!_ ”

Chuckling loudly, she let him go, and he rubbed his lower spine as he straightened. Despite her amusement, there was concern in her eyes. “C’mon you big nerd. What’s wrong?”

Papyrus blinked. “Nothing!” he replied, feigning innocence. He didn’t want to make her worry or seem clingy. Being clingy was never good, that’s what his friendship manual said. She stared at him, unimpressed, and his smile brightened. “I promise!”

“Alright then.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Well! Alphys and I are going to dinner! See ya, punk,”

His soul throbbed painfully. “Have fun!”

“Oh we will!”

* * *

 

Steam rose from the boiling water and the kettle whined in the background. The hotplates on the stove burned red and there was a slight scent of burning in the air. Papyrus grinned, watching Undyne shove the spaghetti into the boiling water, yelling as she summoned a spear to defeat the spaghettis who didn’t fit into the water. To _beat them into submission_.

He himself grabbed couple tomatoes from the basket on the kitchen sink, smashing them down on the surface. One of them bounced to the side, but the others splattered all over the cutting board he’d put out beforehand, because he was a _responsible cook_.

“ _Wait!_ ” came a shrill voice from behind them, and both of them spun around. There, Doctor Alphys stood, staring at them in horror. Papyrus’ smile dropped for a moment before he managed to put it back, and he tilted his head. “That’s not how this goes! You’ll burn down your house again!”

Undyne frowned. “What do you mean, Alph? I think we’re _great_ at this.”

The scientist smiled nervously as she stepped forward, turning down the heat on the hotplates not in use yet. They’d been making sure they were appropriately warm before they started with the sauce. She shook her head. “I’m not a cook but you can’t do it like that. Something is going to get destroyed.”

As she set out to explain how to properly cook spaghetti and make tomato sauce, Undyne watched her with adoration, a dopy smile on her face. And Papyrus wanted to be happy for her, he really did. And he wanted to be happy that he was learning new things.

But all he felt was annoyance burning in his bones, and he had to keep his breathing even and focus on keeping his smile when all he wanted to do was glare at her. This was _his_ time with Undyne, what was she doing here? Why was she criticizing their second favourite activity?

The worst thing was that he knew he was being completely irrational. She was Undyne’s girlfriend, and surely a lovely person. By the Angel, he didn’t _want_ to feel like this. But he did. His fingers itched for him to clench his hands.

“You’re very smart, doctor!” he said cheerfully.

* * *

 

“Alright what the fuck is going on?”

Papyrus twitched at the harsh words, sitting up in her dark blue couch. His hand was bandaged after their fight and there were some drops of marrow leaking through the bandages. The battle had been fierce and he’d had great fun, it was absolutely worth nearly breaking some of his fingers. But now her voice was demanding, though worry shone in her eyes as she stared at him, daring him to break eye contact.

“Going on how?” he replied innocently. It surely wasn’t about what he feared it was about. He’d been great at hiding his resentment, if you asked him. Not even Sans had noticed anything. Her glare strengthened and he had to resist the urge to lean back in his seat.

Undyne narrowed her eyes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Paps. What’s your deal with Alphys? And you’ve seemed so _down_ lately.”

Damn it. Anxiety coiled in his stomach and he picked at the bandages, averting his eyes to stare down at them. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Didn’t want to hear her tell him that her relationship with Alphys was the most important thing now, and that he came second. He didn’t want to lose the best friend he’d ever had.

“I don’t know-”

“Cut it out, Papyrus.” That was an order. Instinctually, he clacked his mouth closed, nodding. “I’m worried.”

His eyes widened.

“You’re my best friend, and she’s my girlfriend. I want you to get along,” Undyne confessed. He dared glance up, and she looked strangely vulnerable as she met his eyes.

“I-” he began before cutting himself off. She nodded encouragingly. Papyrus took a deep breath. “I’m scared.” His voice was small, pitiful. “I’m scared you’re not going to want to hang out with me anymore now when you’re dating Doctor Alphys. That I won’t be important to you anymore.”

“Aw Pap.” She shifted in the couch until she was sitting next to him, the cushions sagging beneath her added weight. Slinging her arm over his shoulders, Undyne pulled him close. He relaxed against her chest, the familiar chill of her body seeping through the fabric of his shirt. Putting her hand on his head, she made him look her in the eye. “You’re my best friend. I’d never stop hanging out with you, and you’ll always be one of the most important people in my life. I love you, nerd.”

His soul warmed, and he nodded.

“Alphys _joined_ you up there among my most important people, she didn’t take your place.” He nodded again. Undyne jabbed her clawed finger into his side, and he twitched. “But Alph is really worried about how distant you’ve been with her.”

Hiding his face in his scarf, Papyrus blushed, ducking his head. “I’m sorry Undyne.”

“Don’t apologize to _me_ , _punk_.”

“You’re right.” A weight felt like it had been lifted in his stomach and he settled in against her, relaxing fully for the first time in he didn’t know how long. As his shoulders sank, it felt like everything maybe would be good. “I’ll apologize to the doctor the next time I see her.”

“Good!” Undyne’s grin returned in full force, and she reached up with her hand to noogie the top of his head. He whined loudly, but didn’t otherwise protest this time. “Now I’m gonna get you into anime if it _kills me_!” Her hand jerked out to grab the remote.

Papyrus frowned, fighting not to grin at her. “But I’m not a baby.”

Her shriek rattled the glasses with cider on the table.

* * *

 

Laughing, he jogged in place as he watched Alphys stumble after him, dressed in pink sweatpants and a purple shirt with a cat girl on it. Her movements were slow, but they were happening. The sun shone above, warm against his bones, making the asphalt of Ebott City ooze heat. “Come on, Alph! You can do it! Almost home!”

He was the only one of them who wasn’t miserable right now. Alphys was panting, attempting to smile at him but it dropped flat from her exhaustion. And Undyne, though jogging in place as well, poured another bottle of saltwater over her head. “ _Angel_ ,” she muttered. “I hate summer.”

“Positive thoughts, ‘Dyne!” he told her, grin widening as she glared at him.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have _skin_.”

Nodding, because that was true, he jogged back to Alphys, who was far after them. She was trying to come with them sometimes to get in shape and get better confidence. Her arms were shaking.

“Come on, Alphys!” he encouraged her. “Let the world know how great you are!”

“I’m- I’m amazing,” she gasped out, chipping for air.

“Hell yeah!” Undyne called from behind – or rather, in front – before the sound of another bottle being poured out came.

Papyrus chuckled. “You are!”

Happiness made his soul tingle. They all were amazing. And life was certainly good.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's look at another way to be aromantic together with Razz

Looking up from the documents he’d been reading, Razz raised an eyebrow as his brother sighed happily, sinking into the couch. Slim had spent the day over in Undertale, hanging out with Cash, and had come through the door from the basement only moments before. “I take it you had fun?” he asked. Though he wouldn’t admit it, it made his soul warm to see his brother looking so… _happy_.

Slim turned to him with a big smile on his face and nodded. “It was amazing.” He fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket before nodding again, slower this time. “We had dinner and hung out in the park and Cash wasn’t even defensive.”

His voice softened as he said Cash’s name. Razz hummed, frowning slightly in confusion. That sounded exactly like any day. It sounded like something he did with Alphys on the extremely rare occasion they had time off together and she wasn’t busy with Undyne. Hell, it _almost_ sounded like something the _Queen_ would invite him for, except of course that Her Majesty wouldn’t go to the park. But they had had conversations in the royal gardens before. Obviously, he wasn’t close to Her Majesty – no one was, but he _was_ close with Alphys. And yet he would never look like that after hanging out with her. “That sounds… nice.”

His brother nodded, leaning back in the couch. “Have you ever been in love?” he asked, sounding almost dreamy. It was _really_ weird to hear his brother like this. And while Razz of course wanted his brother to be happy, it was almost freaking him out a bit. Since when did they do _emotions?_

“No,” he replied.

At his short answer, Slim frowned, confusion playing on his face. “Never?”

Razz shook his head. “Never. And I’m quite pleased with that, I don’t need the distraction.”

In all honesty, he really couldn’t see the point of it. It would only distract from the things that actually mattered in life, like keeping him and his brother safe, and his career. His career was his pride and joy, after all, and having a romantic partner who would demand his attention would only be detrimental to it. Of course, Slim didn’t have those concerns. And it wasn’t anything _wrong_ with romance, of course. Razz just… didn’t want it. At all. Hell, he wasn’t particularly interested in friendships either. The only reason his friendship with Alphys was as close as it was, was because they worked and trained together. They helped each other become better soldiers, and trusted each other to guard their backs. That was a rare thing in the Underground. Well, in _their_ Underground.

Snorting out a laugh, Slim grinned. “Of course _you_ would think that, you fucking workaholic.”

He glared at him. “Excuse me? My work is highly beneficial to _you_ and to the entire Underground. If I hadn’t been doing this, you wouldn’t be able to fool around with Cash.”

Because he’d probably be dead, and they both knew it. The Hotland slums where they’d grown up had a low life expectancy, and if Razz hadn’t joined the Guard and been the _first_ low-class citizen to rise into the highest ranks of it, they’d still be there. Slim raised his hands, though the grin was still playing on his face. “I’m not denying that. You’re still a workaholic though.”

Ugh. In a way, Slim was right, and Razz knew it. He never worked himself over his limit, because that would be extremely dangerous, but even Alphys complained about that he didn’t take enough time off. And about him doing work unofficially on his time off. But in difference to what both she and Slim seemed to think, it wasn’t because he _couldn’t_ stop. It was because he didn’t want to. There was no bigger satisfaction than to finish a well-done job. His work made him happy, and that was that.

Gathering up his paper, he stuck out his tongue at his brother. It was childish, and something he’d _never_ do around anyone except his brother. Slim’s eyes glittered in delight.

“I’m not a workaholic, asshole,” Razz still protested. His mouth stretched into a cruel grin as he stood, peering down at his sitting brother. “And if you don’t take that back I’ll let you cook for yourself for a _week_.” And he didn’t have the money to visit Muffet’s right now since he used it all up to buy Cash a gift, and they both knew it.

Slim gasped. “You _wouldn’t_.”

 “I would.” His grin stretched wider at the horror on Slim’s face. Slim was _not_ a good cook. Both he and Stretch could literally manage to _burn water_. Stretch had _somehow_ done that once.

“ _Fine_ ,” he growled, without any real bite. .”You’re not a workaholic, just a jerk. Happy?”

“Immensely,” Razz purred, holding his papers against his chest. With his free hand, he reached out to pat Slim’s head. “Good boy. We’ll have roasted sweet potato enchiladas tonight.”

The glare Slim sent him made him laugh out loud as he made his way upstairs to drop off his paperwork before getting started with dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is very short
> 
> Anonymous: If you’re still accepting aro prompts I would love to see a aroace Pap who loves love and loves people being happy and is super supportive of others relationships but who never wanted it for himself. Like, he is a big shipper and will listen to his friends and brother swoon over their significant other happy that they are so happy but never feels that romantic connection for himself and never wanted it. (Fluff please) From the romantic AroAce who loves love just not with me please 💚💚

“And then,” Sans sighed dreamily, “we spent the entire night watching the meteor shower.”

Papyrus smiled as he watched his brother babble on about his date with Red. He looked so happy, and it made Papyrus feel all fuzzy inside as well. It was so wonderful to see him like this. Sans often smiled, and he was often _amused_ , but this genuine joy was much rarer. “What else happened?”

Closing his eyes, smiling softly, Sans lowered his face onto his arms on the kitchen table. “We kissed, Pap.”

“That’s wonderful!” He clapped his hands together quietly, as to not startle his brother. Sans nodded slowly, already sinking back into his happy dream haze.

But Sans opened his eyes again, glancing up at him. And although the soft fuzzy joy was still in there, he looked a little concerned. “You’ve never brought anyone home, Pap. Is everything alright?”

Chuckling, he nodded, patting Sans’ head. His soul warmed at the concern, although it was an amusing thought that Sans would think anything was wrong because he hadn’t ever brought home a romantic interest. “Everything is great, brother. I love listening to you talk about Red, but I’m not interested in having a partner, you see. It’s nothing for me.”

His voice was hushed, as to not disturb the peace lying over the kitchen.

Sans blinked, but nodded. “Alright. As long as you’re happy.”

“I am,” Papyrus promised, placing his hand on his brother’s and squeezing gently. “Tell me more about your date with Red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that marks the end of Aromantic Awareness Week 2019, sadly!  
> But I'm not closing this collection of drabbles. Whenever I write something Undertale aro-spec, it's going in here!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [Tumblr](https://odderancyart.tumblr.com/) and at [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Odderancy)!
> 
> Oh! Also I have a recommendation for all you aro-spec folks out there. The playlist _Aromantic Anthems_ on Spotify by idkmanimhereformusic. The first song in the album, _Never Been in Love_ (Will Jay) is my current favourite song!


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